


Hideaway

by mimosaeyes



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, M/M, and adoraburrs! don't forget the adoraburrs!, basically kid Rayla with her two adoptive dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21545746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimosaeyes/pseuds/mimosaeyes
Summary: When the Dragon Guard falls, and her parents are thought to be deserters, Ethari brings Rayla to his and Runaan’s special spot — the meadow with the adoraburrs.
Relationships: Ethari & Rayla, Rayla & Runaan (The Dragon Prince), Runaan/Tinker | Necklace Elf (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 274





	Hideaway

**Author's Note:**

> I have _feelings_ about Ethari and kid Rayla. Also, we know his name now! Nothing is stopping me from writing Moonfam cuteness.
> 
> In case the title doesn’t look like a real word: a hideaway is a place where someone can retreat for privacy and safety.

The day the Dragon King falls — the very moment when the spear pierces his chest and begins turning him to stone — the mages of Silvergrove buckle at the knees. The death of such a powerful magical creature sends shockwaves across the whole of Xadia.

And so the Moonshadow elves know immediately when their Dragon Guard has failed. But when the villagers gather around the fountain, several of the flowers are still defiantly floating on the surface of the water.

Including those belonging to Rayla’s parents.

She stands in a crowd of her classmates who have flooded out of the school together, and cranes her neck to make out the flowers.

Every day since her parents left her in the care of their best friends, she’s walked past the fountain and checked that they were still standing. She misses them, ferociously. But it isn’t the Moonshadow way to openly express those emotions. So instead, she’s made them part of her daily routine. Those two minutes each morning spent remembering them have been her comfort, her rock, her mooring.

Rayla tiptoes, peering between and over heads. The flowers are still there.

Whispers start to reach her ears. Their names, uttered in hushed tones together with words like _cowards, deserters._

“You don’t know that,” Rayla says hotly, to no one in particular. Her eyes are stinging and she blinks back tears. She’s feeling too many things at once. She wants them to come back safely. They are excellent fighters — arguably the best — and she imagines them holding hands, forming the last line of defence. She’s proud of them, and scared for them. She just _knows_ that they are standing their ground.

Yet everyone around her is seeing a completely different story. One of dishonour, and dereliction of duty.

An icy feeling, combining fear and alienation, creeps over Rayla as she realises that her community, her peers and elders, are wishing the opposite thing from her. They are waiting for the flowers to sink. Hoping that her parents will die at their posts even though there’s nothing left to protect, only avenge. Because the alternative, for them, is to admit that their warriors have turned out to be yellow-bellied traitors.

Rayla stumbles away from her classmates. No one tries to stop her. In fact, they collectively part to give her a wide berth, as if they think her parents’ cowardice and shame is contagious.

She hears her name being called, and falls into the waiting arms of Runaan. She can barely see anything through her tears now, but she recognises his voice and his solid, reassuring presence. He scoops her up and she presses her face into his shoulder, curling her little fingers in the fabric of his tunic.

Holding her, he walks quickly away from the crowds. Rayla closes her eyes and tries to block out everything.

Eventually, she hears Runaan sigh in relief. They come to a stop and he murmurs, “Oh, love. Here. I need you to take Rayla.”

She lifts her head long enough to make out Ethari, and reaches out a hand to him. Runaan stands close by his husband while Rayla transfers over and wraps one tiny arm around Ethari’s neck.

“Where to?” Ethari asks. He absently pats Rayla’s back. She finds it quite soothing. “You don’t mean—?”

“No. The last thing she should do is run.” The line of Runaan’s mouth is hard, but his face softens when he sees Rayla watching him. He tucks the braid Ethari did for her, behind her ear. “But…”

Ethari nods slowly, understanding without Runaan needing to finish his sentence. “She can’t be here right now.”

Runaan looks askance, back toward where the rest of the village is gathered. “They will not ghost her, too. I’m sure of it.”

“Or you’ll _make_ sure of it.” Ethari stops Runaan with a hand on his shoulder. “My heart. You will be alright?”

Rayla looks at Runaan closely. Conflicting emotions are warring in his expression. He’s known her parents for longer than she has, after all.

As much for her benefit as for Ethari’s, Runaan says, “I don’t believe they…” He trails off and takes a shuddering breath to steady himself.

They have to part ways, but Ethari pauses to squeeze Runaan’s shoulder. “I will see you where we first met,” he tells him.

Runaan’s left eyebrow ticks up slightly. So does the corner of his mouth, in a shadow of a smile. “Our special spot. Good idea,” he says. 

Then he ducks his head, unnecessarily, to address Rayla. “You’ll love it there,” he promises. “I want to hear all about it later. Okay?”

“Okay,” Rayla says quietly. Almost numbly.

She lets herself be carried out of Silvergrove, her thoughts stewing. They cross the boundary of the illusion spell and leave behind the commotion in the village. Out in the forest, everything still seems peaceful.

“Ethari?” Rayla calls, her voice muffled slightly from how she’s cuddled against him.

He hears her anyway. “Yes?”

“What did he mean by ‘ghost’?”

Ethari stumbles a little. He pauses to get his footing. And perhaps, to collect himself.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” he says gently. “We’re going on a trip. To a very special place.”

He hoists her up more securely, adjusting the position of his arm to better support her weight.

“You don’t need to carry me,” Rayla points out.

“Do you want me to?” Ethari asks.

She hesitates. Wouldn’t that be akin to admitting how distraught she feels right now? How raw and vulnerable, and in need of comfort? She bites her lip and nuzzles her head against Ethari’s soft tufts of hair.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says simply. “We’re almost there, anyway. Look.”

Rayla does.

Ethari pushes aside a bush, and they emerge into a meadow full of tall grass, surrounded on all sides by smooth rock walls. It immediately makes Rayla feel a little safer. The grass is so many different shades of green, some of it nearly silvery in the evening light. A gentle breeze makes it all rustle and glint.

Instinctively, she starts wiggling to be let down, which Ethari does with a soft laugh. Rayla’s still small enough that the grass almost envelops her. She runs her fingers through it, feeling cradled on all sides by its susurrus.

Something sticks to her sleeve. Confused, Rayla pulls back her arm — and sees what looks like a tiny puffball snagged on it. The creature opens its eyes and blinks at her.

“Oh! Hello, you wee cutie,” she says, picking it up and letting it sit on her palm. She giggles as it begins squeaking in reply.

Ethari kneels beside her. After looking around for a moment, he plucks another two of the critters from the grass and drops them lightly on top of the first one. They stick together, and excitedly chirp in chorus.

“They’re called adoraburrs,” Ethari explains. “They’re active around this time of day. If you want to catch them awake, you need to come before night falls.”

She looks up at him. “I love them!”

On impulse, she lays back in the grass, and then pops up again with more adoraburrs stuck to her hair and clothes. A couple of them start jumping up and down on her head.

“They don’t mind us doing this, do they?” Rayla asks, as the thought occurs to her.

Ethari shakes his head. “They’re able to move around, but not very quickly. It actually helps them socialise if animals or elves pass through here.”

Rayla’s eyes widen and she stands up. “Okay!” she declares. “All aboard for the other side of the meadow!”

Somehow, they seem to understand her intention. At least a dozen more adoraburrs hop on, squeaking as they do. Tottering slightly, Rayla carries them around the place.

There’s still a hollow feeling in her chest, but it feels far away as she chatters to her new friends. Ethari follows behind her, picking up any strays that fall off her and placing them into her cupped hands.

She asks him more questions about the adoraburrs, as well as the meadow, which isn’t too far from the village, but which she never knew existed. It’s hidden away, a well-kept secret. Rayla’s heart swoops with pleasure as she realises that Runaan and Ethari are sharing it with her.

“Any time you want to escape for a while, you can come here,” Ethari tells her. “Any time things get too much, you can come and take a break from it all.”

His voice is fond, but also a little sad. Rayla cocks her head at him when she notices. “What’s wrong?” she asks, leaning closer. A couple of adoraburrs jump from her to him.

Their gleeful sounds become more muted as Ethari sighs. He tries to give her a reassuring smile. “I’m just worried that… that you’re not going to have the easiest time now, growing up in Silvergrove.”

“Because of my parents,” Rayla says. She may be young, but she understands that what happened today is momentous. It changes everything.

Ethari nods. “Rayla, I need you to remember something. I need you to remember what they are really like.”

Rayla’s puzzled. Sure, it’s been a while since she’s seen her parents, but it’s not like she would forget them.

He must see the confusion on her face, because he hurries to add, “Not just what they look like. I mean — your friends at school, they might… they might say things about your parents. Things that hurt to hear. You mustn’t fight with them if that happens.”

He gives her a teasing look. Okay, fine, Rayla has been known to get into the occasional scuffle. But only when someone’s being bullied and can’t defend themselves! It’s not like she can just sit by! She has to help.

Ethari nudges her. “No matter what they say, you mustn’t let them change your mind about who your parents really are. Can you promise me you’ll try?”

Solemnly, Rayla nods.

Then she hears a soft noise, almost like wheezing. She looks down to see that the adoraburrs have begun dozing off. This must be their version of snoring.

Impossibly, they’re reaching new heights of cuteness.

But they’re also still stuck to her. Rayla looks up at Ethari, eyes mildly frantic. She doesn’t want to pluck them off by hand; that would wake them up. “What do I do?” 

Ethari hums for a moment, and then begins to whistle a low melody.

Rayla has heard him whistle before. Ethari is soft-spoken most of the time. But when he’s in a really good mood, he whistles while tinkering in his workshop. (She’s tried to imitate him before. But she always ends up just blowing air ineffectually, her cheeks puffing, while he tries to explain how to shape her mouth properly.)

This is different, though. It’s a specific, familiar tune. With a start, Rayla realises that her parents used to sing it to her, to help her sleep. Especially when her horns first started coming in, making her head ache and itch in turn.

One by one, the adoraburrs begin falling off her, gently rolling to the ground and settling back into the grass for their nighttime slumber.

The day’s events must be catching up to her, too, because as Rayla listens to the melody, she sways drowsily. Ethari stops whistling and pulls her close so she can huddle for warmth. She feels him remove his scarf and drape it over her.

“Get some rest,” he says quietly. “I’ll wake you when Runaan comes to get us.”

“Will you continue with the song?” Rayla asks, her words slurring together slightly.

He does. After a few more minutes, she drifts off to sleep.

Then she’s waking up again, gasping for breath, and the air is cold and harsh in her throat.

“Rayla?”

Runaan turns to her from where he’s standing some distance off, talking to Ethari. They must be keeping something from her, she thinks distantly. Instead of asking about it, though, she just reaches a hand out for him. He strides over at once.

“It’s okay,” Runaan starts to say as he crouches down beside her, but then he cuts himself off with a startled, “Oof!” as she all but tackles him in a hug.

She clings to him and he clings back. “What is it, Rayla? Did you have a nightmare?”

“I — I dreamed _I_ was the flower, and I was sinking into the water,” she stammers. She’s dangerously close to blubbering. “Only it wasn’t the fountain, it was like an ocean. Bottomless, and I just kept sinking.”

Runaan hushes her and holds her close. “It’s okay now. You’re okay.”

She’s always disliked water, but now the thought of it elicits an insidious fear in her. She wonders if it’ll be like that from now on, as if her fear for her parents is redirecting itself.

She feels Runaan turn his head toward Ethari. They don’t say anything, but they must be communicating silently, the way they do sometimes. Her own parents, too, could always understand each other like that.

“Rayla, look at me,” Runaan says, pulling away from her. Reluctantly, she lets him.

He holds her gaze to make sure he has her full attention. “Do you like living with us?”

Her bottom lip quivers. “Yes.”

“Well, you’re going to stay with us now. Okay? And we’ll protect you. We’ll keep you safe.” 

Ethari clasps Runaan’s shoulder. Runaan puts one hand over his.

“We already love you like our own,” Ethari tells her, for both of them. He’s always been better than Runaan at articulating this kind of thing. “If you’re willing, we can keep things the way they have been.”

Rayla looks from one elf to the other. “My… my parents aren’t coming back. Are they?”

Runaan shakes his head, his expression torn. “They can’t, Rayla.”

“They’re not… dead—?”

“No,” Runaan says quickly. “No. We’ll explain in good time. But for now…”

He looks to Ethari for help. The other elf jumps in. “For now, just know that even though we could never take their place, we’ll always be here for you.”

Rayla rubs at her eyes. She intends the gesture to conceal her tears, but it probably just draws attention to them.

At least Runaan has the grace to pretend she’s just sleepy. “Come. You must be tired,” he says. “Can you walk on your own?”

She nods. He helps her stand up, and Ethari guides her out of the hidden meadow, pointing out the distinctive bushes that mark the entrance so she can find her way back on her own, next time.

Back at Silvergrove, they perform the ritual to see through the illusion spell together. Then Rayla sticks up her hand, and Ethari, naturally as if they’ve always been doing this, holds it.

He and Runaan exchange unreadable looks above her head. With a faint crinkling of his brow, Runaan takes her other hand. “Let’s go home,” he says.

And Rayla thinks that maybe… it could be.

**Author's Note:**

> That last line has no chill because neither did season 3 ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> I realised immediately after posting that I forgot the timeline. Thunder only dies four months before season 1. Gah. It _feels_ like it happened years ago, though.
> 
> Additional notes in this [tumblr post](https://mimosaeyes.tumblr.com/post/189267957587/hideaway-mimosaeyes-the-dragon-prince).


End file.
